


a collection of drabbles for viktor nikiforov's twenty-eight birthday

by lilium_parvum



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anime, Birthday, Fanfiction, M/M, Other, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 01:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9049258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilium_parvum/pseuds/lilium_parvum
Summary: i wrote some poems and a short fic for this beautiful man's birthday because i love him and i feel like he has never celebrated it to the extent that he should.
essentially, the poems are about viktor and yuuri's love.  the fic is about the lengths to which viktor goes to make yuuri happy, which, in turn, cause him to be sick on his birthday.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i am not a very good writer or poet but i hope you enjoy this ;)
> 
> also, thank you to bri for proofing my hot mess of a fanfiction! wowowowow!
> 
> poems first because i'm more comfortable with them and they're easier to stomach

-eros (this one was for yuuri's birthday originally, but it's written almost from viktor's perspective about yuuri.)

eros is an otherworldly beauty  
found and preserved  
in little things like  
the warmth of a meal  
or the solace we seek  
in others' inviting arms  
eros is the way your doe eyes  
scan spectral hues of a frozen pond  
or the way your eyes flicker  
as you glide in fluid patterns  
eros is the vividity of the pink  
dusting your thawed cheeks  
the methodical slicing of ice  
and the rhythmic hum-drum  
of your heartbeat against my chest

-the first thing i've ever wanted to hold on to

i would watch you on the television  
your eyes, cut ice crystals, striking blue  
with skates on you were invincible  
took my breath with you

i see you so clearly now, bright blue  
your home in russia with silver decor  
snow trickling down, kissing the tips of your ears  
just like i do when we're alone

every time you look at me, you grin  
with that white smile of yours, forming a heart  
pale, gaunt cheeks but your rosy nose  
like the wintry days that are cold but warmer with you

i wish i had words to tell you how you've given me  
the first thing i've ever wanted to hold on to

-gold

five-time world champ  
silver hair in your dizzy eyes  
damp, damp, damp  
drying off from the onsen  
you make me feel  
like gold  
medals  
rings  
when your mouth  
puckered and tender  
speaks my name i know  
we are gold

-full of surprises (the fanfiction. viktor's POV)

Yuuri’s room is warm. It’s not warm like the heavy, overbearing heat from a heater, the kind that makes your head numb and your eyesight dizzy. It’s something that’s spread naturally, something that meanders from the blankets and Yuuri’s florid cheeks to each corner of the room. Sitting up, awake, I’m able to take it all in and relish each minute of this space we share. Yuuri and I. His room. His parent’s home in Hasetsu, Japan. Every inch of this space is teeming with life and love, the two things that I’ve reopened the steel doors to. The reason is asleep in next to me, unaware of the day of romance I’ve planned for him. I want to sweep him off of his feet. I want to grant him the life and love he’s provided me.

According to the Internet, December 24th is a sort of couples day in Japan. So, I’ve decided to go all out. I want to take him shopping in the city and stargazing and kissing and I want to look into his starry, awestruck eyes and just say, “Wow.” I want to make him a Russian dinner and hold him until the day roars in like a lion.

My thoughts are interrupted Yuuri’s stirring, a quiet snort followed by a breathy yawn. He sits up and rubs his eyes. They’re a bit puffy and his lips are dry and cracked. “Yuuri, good morning.” Yuuri smiles feebly at me as he reaches over and puts on his glasses in a swift motion.

“Good morning, Viktor!” He responds, now starting to adjust to his surroundings.

I stand up and pick up Yuuri’s lip balm from the desk near his bed. I get back into the bed and I dip my index finger in the lip balm. “Yuu, look at me for a minute.” Yuuri turns to face me with innocence dusting his face and parts him lips ever so slightly, almost like a naïve school girl. I feel the corners of my mouth tug into a smirk as I rub the product on his lips. Then, I just rest my thumb on his bottom lip, which is now shiny and smooth. We stare at each other for a few moments before Yuuri does something heavenly--he sits on my lap and kisses me. He wraps his legs around my waist and kisses me--so, so sweetly, but without the brevity of a peck. This is a kiss that he intends to lead, and one that lingers on my lips when he gently pulls away. I cup his face with my hands and kiss him for just long enough to remind him of my feelings, to let the kiss radiate in his chest like his did mine. Then, I pull him closer to me and bury my face in his exposed neck, my arms around him and resting in his hair. He returns the embrace with as much passion and runs his hot fingers along my bare back, peppering my face and neck with little kisses. I laugh and place my hands on the small of his back, positioning him so that he’s lying on top of me. I can feel myself becoming more aroused as Yuuri wiggles himself into a comfortable position. Our faces are now completely level. Yuuri puts our foreheads together and chuckles, letting his hand fall to my chest and another find its way to the back of my neck. His foot trails up and down my thigh as he rubs little circles with the hand on my chest. His eyes flicker downwards at my lips for a second, then back to my eyes. Every movement, touch, glance leaves me longing for more.

He leans in, slowly, teasingly, and closes his eyes. I close mine and nearly meet his lips, so anxious to have every little bit of Katsuki Yuuri to myself. I can feel his breath against my lips, leaving me weak and breathless for a second, my hands finding their way to his hips when-when--BRRRINGG! My phone alarm goes off. We have a train to catch in order to make it to Fukuoka at a relatively reasonable hour. Mood killed, but I think, There’s always tonight.

Within a few minutes, Yuuri changes out of his sweats in favor of an orange and grey snow jacket and cozy black pants. I sleep in boxers, so I just throw on some grey sweaters and a hefty, navy blue coat. I drape a similarly colored scarf across my neck and slide into my thickest and tan snow pants. The forecast predicts that the weather will be slightly less cool than usual, but we both still bundle up in hats and gloves. Yuuri looks at me nervously. “We won’t be late, right? We don’t have reservations or anything, do we?” Typically, I show up late to nearly everything due to my inattentive and forgetful personality.

“No, I wouldn’t miss them. Not today. Let’s go catch a train, though!”

“A train? Not THE train?” I grab Yuuri’s wrist and drag him out of the house. “Viktor!”

By some miracle, we arrive in Fukuoka. The train ride, however, was a beauty of its own. Yuuri watched the sunrise. The vivid pinks and oranges and blues illuminated his already rosy face to create a Yuuri that seemed to waltz around in watercolor--the hues of the sky melding together and spreading across his pale face as if done with a meticulous brush. I almost wish we could’ve stayed there forever, but I know that a day in Fukuoka would suit Yuuri’s interests more.

It dawns on me, as we step off of the train, that I’ve never been here before. My absent-minded brain forgot to remind me to research the specific places here rather than just nearby cities. I am bothered by this, but decide to use it to my advantage. “Alright, Yuuri, lead me wherever you want to go.” My hand is still locked with his, and I press a soft kiss to the gold band on his ring finger. His ears and cheeks flush.

He carefully leads me through the city, snaking his way through bustling crowds. Eventually, he stops at a humble clothing shop. It’s a muted beige color and is several stories high. I can’t read the name of it because it’s written in kanji. He enters the artificially and uncomfortably warm shop and I look around in it once I’ve adjusted to the emptiness of the building. I get the impression that it’s a kind of department store, only instead of being single story with carpeted dividers, each section is a story. This first one is filled with varieties of men’s and women’s clothing. Yuuri drags me to a back section that’s lined with...suits?

“Viktor, you said I needed a new suit, right? Because the one I wore during the season was ugly? Help me choose one.” He lets go of my hand and I miss his touch; I almost want to reach out and grab his hand again, but I don’t. I look at the rows and rows of suits, and then back at him. Back at his eyes, his skin, his hair. I want to find something that will complement and suit the person he is--hopeful, kind, intelligent. I decide on a white suit with a white shirt and a blue tie.

“This one.” I say, pointing to it. Yuuri smiles.

After a hassle with an employee, Yuuri is allowed to try the suit on. I stand outside of the changing room and listen to his feet and he steps out of his clothes and into the suit. I feel bad because he has to change out of his many layers and into a three-piece suit.

He steps out, and I fall in love with him all over again.

He’s managed to slick his longer hair back in a sloppy way. The stark whiteness of the suit contrasts his dark eyes and hair delightfully, and the blue tie adds an icy pop of color to the achromatic suit. He is a vision of class and elegance and what I can only describe as beautiful because words fail to have a way to portray this type of magnificence. Yuuri smiles at me with a comforting grin. “I kind of like it, actually.” I stare at him, maybe a bit too coldly, because Yuuri seems confused. The dressing room door is open. I jump on him and kiss him like I did at the Cup of China, one of the most incredible moments of our relationship. One kiss leads to another until I’m running my tongue along the back of his teeth. He’s tugging my hair and almost fighting with me for some kind of dominance. Yuuri’s giving in little by little, but he’s nibbling on my lips ever so slightly, I almost don’t want him to stop.

We end up lying on the floor of the dressing room. I’m hovering over him, smiling and breathless, my forehead resting on his chest and my right leg between his thighs. We’re both out of breath. Yuuri pokes the top of my head with his finger and I stiffen a bit, but I soon melt into his touch as he runs his fingers through my hair. “Yuuri…” I breath.

“Viktor…” Yuuri presses a kiss to the top of my head and pulls my head into the crook of his neck.

“Katsuki Yuuri, I am in love with you. I love you.”

“Viktor Nikiforov, I love you, too!” Yuuri responds. He grins from ear-to-ear and I kiss his roseate cheeks and his cute piggy nose. “W-We should get up now, though. We’re kind of, um, in public.” I nod and stand, but I notice that my nose has started to run and my head is beginning to hurt. I shrug it off and pay for the suit. We walk out of the store, hand in hand, and take the city on together.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Night, I’ve decided, is a spider. It creeps in, slowly, but when it bites you, you cannot fight back. You become mindless when it does because it is so dark and suddenly you cannot see, But, looking at it through kind lenses, it’s a really stunning thing. Yuuri and I are on the train back to Hasetsu. Night doesn’t reach this train we’re on now. It’s not outside like the morning one was. Apparently, talking and affectionate displays are considered impolite on trains, so Yuuri and I just look around, then stare back at each other for a while. I think it’s a bit boring, but Yuuri is smiling, so it’s alright.

When we get off the train, far, far from the city, I see the stars clearly. We’re walking down an empty street on our way back to Yuuri’s home. I think that he’s at least a yard ahead of me because I can’t stop staring at the stars. But then a hand locks with mine. “Your hands are cold.” Yuuri rests his head on my shoulder.

I meet his eyes. They’re aglow, like galaxies, cosmic and enchanting, but they’re more stunning. HIs pupils have grown in size and have become a mirror to the sky. Yuuri’s breathing is faint and flies visibly out of his mouth, white and cold like the wintry world around us. I lean down and peck his lips, and as I pull away, Yuuri grabs my scarf and pulls me back down for a tender kiss. I savor it--the tast of Yuuri’s lips, the feeling of his smooth, balmy hands against my cool face. He pulls away and my eyes flutter open. I feel my chest start burning from him. He’s so, so cute yet so, so sexy. Yuuri glances up at me one last time before we start walking back to his home. His sultry, half-lidded gaze is brimming with desire. I reach out to grab his hand, but I have to sniffle, sniffle, sniffle, and then sneeze. And cough. Suddenly, his arousing expression is replaced with one of concern. “Viktor, you’re getting sick. Come on, you need some rest. Besides, your birthday is tomorrow.”

He’s got a hold of my wrist and is guiding me back to Hasetsu when I really think about it, my birthday. It’s not something that’s celebrated in Russia, so I usually just had some Alenka chocolates and went to bed early. It’s funny how things have changed now that I have Yuuri.

Finally, we reach Yuuri’s room. It’s the same as we left it this morning. Quiet. A bit messy. Yuuri helps me change out of my multiple layers of cumbersome clothing and tucks me into bed. I’m a coughing, sick mess. And I’m upset that I didn’t get to cook Yuuri a decent Russian meal. Yuuri leaves the room for a moment and returns with a small, plastic container halfway-filled with a watery, purple substance. “Drink this. It’ll help you sleep. It always helped me.”

I stare at the medicine, see through and odorless. It seems to stare at me, too, and makes me quiver from remembering the disgusting things I’ve drank before. “Does it taste bad?”

“Viktor, just drink it. Please.”

“Isn’t there any other way I can get better? Herbal remedy?”

“Do it for me, Vitya.” Yuuri states, resting his hand on my stomach. Without a moment’s hesitation, I reach over and practically inhale the medication. I somehow manage to cough and gag at the same time, which is disgusting and uncomfortable. “Thank you. I just want my love to feel better.” Yuuri’s face flushes shades of red as he looks down at the floor. He’s positively adorable. Yuuri has a certain eros that comes alive and has developed over our time together. However, he can still become timid, nervous, and indecisive about his romantic actions.

“Yuuri, I’m not tired yet.” I whine after a few minutes. Yuuri is sitting on the foot of the bed, resting his hand on my ankle and scrolling through his phone. He looks up at me, his simple blue glasses now off, with his mouth agog.

“I don’t want to get sick, Viktor.”

“Yuuri…”

Yuuri thinks for a moment, his index finger balancing gently on his chin. “How about I sleep on the floor, but right next to you?”

“Alright.”

I wake up to an empty room. Yuuri isn’t next to me, and it’s still dim. I try to get up, but when I do, a note falls off my lap and to the ground. I reach down and pick it up, all while seated on the bed.

Dear Viktor,

Happy birthday! Please please please do not overexert yourself! Rest and relax.

Love,  
Katsuki Yuuri.

I chuckle and place it in my lap. I come to realize that I’ve never seen his room like this before, been able to really study it. It’s cute. This bed is small, but I guess it doesn’t bother me anymore because I enjoy cuddling with Yuuri all night. The bookshelf at the foot of the best is full of little trinkets. I scoot closer to it and see a few interesting things. There are a few rolled up posters that catch my eye, so I pick one up and open it. And it’s a poster of me. In fact, they all are. I take one with me and stare at it. I can’t help but think about how utterly adorable he is, but I wonder when he got them. Just as I settle into position, one of the posters rolled up next to me, Yuuri walks in with my dog, Makkachin, trailing next to him.

“Good morning, Vik-”

I interrupt him by unrolling the poster and saying, “Yuuri, what is this?” Yuuri looks dumbstruck. In fact, he nearly drops the tray of food in his hands and turns a vivid shade of red. I giggle and smile at him teasingly.

“Viktor, I can ex-”

“Do you just have posters of me? Do you love me that much?” I continue to laugh and play with him, his face getting progressively more colorful. “When did you get these? I look a bit odd in this one, haha.”

“I-I can ex-explain them, I just… I was a really big fan of yours. Still am.”

“And I’m a fan of yours. You’re adorable. What is it that you have there?” I ask, pointing to the food in his hands. It’s got little fruits surrounding a pancake-like food in the center. It reminds me of my mother’s blinis. I can’t see what is on the smaller plate next to the larger one.

“I tried to make you a blini. And on this little plate are syr-syrnikis. I heard you eat this for breakfast in Russia.” His face is slightly less flushed than before, but still holds onto its typical rosiness. “I want you to have a good birthday and I know you probably miss Russia. I’m sorry if it doesn’t taste--” My heart melts with every word he says, everything he does. Yuuri made me Russian food because he’s worried I’m homesick. My chest feels tight and warm and fuzzy as I take the tray from him.

“This is perfect, Yuuri, thank you. Have some with me.” I pat the space next to me and Yuuri sits, quietly taking a strawberry and eating it.

Yuuri smiles at me. “Thank you for yesterday. I really enjoyed it.” I glance back at him, my mouth full of this cuisine from home, and manage to swallow it all in time to take his hand.

“It was nothing. Isn’t it Christmas for you all? Merry Christmas.”

Yuuri and I finish the breakfast quickly, and it’s actually quite good. Upon complimenting the meal, Yuuri says that his mom helped him make it, but they were assisted by a friend over video chat. A friend. Interesting. Regardless, it tasted really incredible. Yuuri clears the tray once we’re done and climbs back into bed to cuddle with me. “Happy, happy birthday,” He whispers into my ear, 

Yuuri chuckles. He grabs a box of tissues from his desk and gives them to me, plopping down at the foot of the bed.

We end up talking for a while. Occasionally, Yuuri leaves me to get me a snack or some water, but he spends the whole day telling me about his childhood. When he’s deep in thought or talking about something he’s passionate about, his eyes get this little glimmer. A spark different from the one he gets during sex or sightseeing. It’s not arousal or awe. It’s a sort of sparkle that is nearly as bright as the rings on our fingers and ten times as beautiful. He’s just finished telling me about the first tie he saw me skate--how I moved him to do it and about his dog, Vicchan. “He passed away when I studied in Detroit, but he was a really sweet dog.” 

Instantly, I feel so sad for Yuuri. His beloved dog died and he wasn’t even around to say goodbye! I take hold of his hand, which is more sizzling than usual, and run my thumb across his knuckles. “Oh, Yuuri, I’m so sorry.” It occurs to me then that he wanted me to fly to Japan for Makkachin because he regrets not being around for Vicchan. I pull him into a tight hug and press a peck to his forehead. “So sad, Yuuri. I’m so sorry.” I run my fingers through his longer-than-usual black hair and rest my chin on top of his head.

“Yeah, it was sad, but I’m okay now.” Yuuri responds, nuzzling into my neck. “I have to get up, now. I don’t want to get sick.” Reluctantly, I release him. Just before he goes back to the floor, I kiss his ring.

I think we must’ve fallen asleep for at least two hours. When I wake up, Yuuri is staring at me. He blushes when he realizes I’ve awoken to him watching me sleep and soon gets up to get a surprise. He comes back with a little wrapped box and a tray with a cake dotted with chocolates. “Happy birthday, I know it’s not a big deal in Russia, but I--”

“Thank you, Yuuri. Or should I say ‘Spasibo’?” I chuckle and take the tray. I look closer at the cake and the chocolate bits on it. “A-Are these Alenka chocolates?” I ask, staring at the dessert in sheer disbelief.

“Y-Yeah.”

I am dumbstruck. “How did you get these? They’re hard to get in Japan! Yuuri, they’re my favorite! Spasibo, spasibo, spasibo, krasavets!” I exclaim, completely head-over-heels. I bite into the cake and relish the sweetness of the cake, which is vanilla. The chocolates taste like home. When I’ve finished eating all that I can, I decide to open the little gift. The first thing that I see when I open it is a letter from Yuuri himself.

Viktor,

There’s a place you just can’t reach unless you have a dream too large to bear alone. You were my dream. Are my dream. Because without you, my dream doesn’t exist. You inspire me everyday to skate and to love and I am grateful to have you in my life. I never thought in a million years that I’d have the honor of falling in love with my idol, Viktor Nikiforov. I love you Viktor. Thank you for continually believing in me and encouraging me to be the best I can be. You’re the first thing I’ve ever wanted to hold on to. My first love. I love you. Happy, happy birthday.

Ya lyublyu tebya,

Katsuki Yuuri

P.S. I hope that soon it will be Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov!

I don’t even notice, but when I look up, little pearl tears have collected in my eyes. They stream down my face gently, like a pearl necklace, and I can’t stop them from coming. A cough later, I am crying harder than I ever have. “Yuuri…”

“Viktor…” Yuuri touches my thigh. I open the box to find a little bracelet in it. Two, actually. They’re made of genuine silver and a few charms dangle from them. An ice skate and a heart. He takes one out and slips it on to my wrist, delicately. I put the other on his wrist, and Yuuri pulls me into a tight hug. “I love you so much. Happy birthday.”

“I love you too. You’ve given me the best birthday in the world.” I say. And I mean it. 

Yuuri pulls away from the hug as his phone vibrates in his pocket. When he answers the call, I can hear a loud voice coming from the phone, even though it’s not on speaker. The voice is rather familiar, and I put my finger on it the moment I hear: “Did Viktor like his birthday? If that idiot doesn’t appreciate my fucking culinary masterpiece instructions, I’ll--”

 

I laugh and take the phone from Yuuri. “Hi Yuratchka! No worries, your ‘fucking culinary masterpiece’ did not go to waste.”

“Good! It took that moron two hours to perfect the blinis! I have to go now because I’m practicing to kick your ass next year!” And with that, he hung up. He’s so funny. When we’re in Russia, Yuuri and I look after him as our son almost.

Just then, Yuuri’s mom walks in the room. “Hi Viktor! Are you feeling any better?”

I smile. “Hello! I am, thank you for asking.”

“Did you like the cake? Yuuri must’ve redone it a million times to make sure it was perfect.” I glance at Yuuri and smile softly. “Well, I should be going. I’m glad you’re doing better now!” With those words, she leaves and closes the door behind her.

“Yuuri, two hours for the blinis? And how many times did you redo the cake? You don’t have to do all this for me..”

“Viktor, you took me from a dime-a-dozen figure skater to second place in the GPF. You, like I said, taught me so much about love and skating and I’m so grateful. I wanted to do all this for you, Vitya. And I hate seeing you sick like this. So colorless and sniffly. So get better soon so I can give you a real gift.” His face forms a smirk and he winks at me as he walks out.

That’s why I came to coach him. That’s why I kissed him at the Cup of China. It’s why I fell in love with Katsuki Yuuri. Because, whether he realizes it or not, Katsuki Yuuri is full of surprises.


End file.
